Am I the only one who saw the title of this thread and thought it was some new tagline for a douche product?
You go, girl! That’s tellin’ them! Sometimes you get what you pay for! 
sittin by the river, nursing a cafe au lait… man, I wanna go back. Eve, have fun on your Roman Holiday…
Our fair Eve, is she a swine?
To have pearls cast before her?
No, she is rather a swan
Golden in name and nature
So let us give her pearls
Diamonds, sapphires, and rubies
For no price is too high
If she will flash us her boobies
Nemo—I am going to use that instead of an “author’s bio” in my next book!
Anyone else have a (possibly apocryphal) Churchill quote come to mind here?
Now that you mention it, Random…yeah…
Great poem, Nemo.
Does David look like Warren Beatty, aged 21 or so? (sigh)
Actually, David looks like Jeff Daniels, sorta. Or Gene Raymond, if you’re into old movies.
. . . But we are Just Good Friends.
…Gene Rayburn? The guy from *The Match Game?
“Gene Rayburn.” Why, I oughtta . . . .
So anyway, I’m packed, unpacked, repacked and unpacked again (I’m trying to cram a week’s worth of clothes into a weekend carry-on). Left the umpteenth message for my goddam cat-sitter. Told David to pick me up at the airport Sunday, NOT Saturday. Even got a 1936 book on The Evils of the French Quarter (there’s a chapter on “lewd, abandoned women who behave in a notorious fashion” which I am paying particular attention to).
So I will see you guys on the 30th, unless my plane crashes or I am indeed done in by a gigolo. In which case, I want a Memorial Smilie, like Wally. Mine should be glaring haughtily through a lorgnette and saying, “Well, REALLY!”
Eve- sounds like a very interesting book. Who published it? I’d love to have a copy of that. Maybe you can write a updated version, based on your experiences. Really.
It’s “The French Quarter–An Informal History of the New Orleans Underworld” (1936), by Herbert Asbury, pub. by Garden City Publishing Co. I know they have copies on those internet book-search sites. V. entertaining; they even have ads for whorehouses, and a “social column” from 1904 with items such as “Daisy Merritt is having a grand old time with her lumberman. Say, Skidoo, look out; there might be something doing there that may surprise you. Money is H_ll, you know.”
See you guys on the 30th or thereabouts, unless I have enough leisure time to send a postcard from David’s computer (and I can remember what the hell my password is!). Finally got a good pair of slutty bedroom slippers: gold silk mules with a cha-cha heel. And remember, “nice girls don’t wear cha-cha heels!”